Mere Moments
by Herenya902
Summary: A collection of very short one shots set in the Skyrim universe.
1. Falling Even Further

She was soaked to the bone and colder than she could remember being in a long time. Of course the Eastmarch weather had chosen today to rain instead of snow. After begging Ulfric for days to let her back in the field after being injured a week ago, he had let her go on a scouting mission at the edge of the hold.

Unfortunately she had been only halfway back to Windhelm when it had started to rain. Except it wasn't just rain. It was freezing rain. At first she hadn't minded, but by the time she had made it to the city she had decided that freezing rain was much, much worse than snow. The rain had soaked into her every pore. She was _very_ irritated and looking forward to crashing on her bed in the room that Ulfric had given her in the Palace.

Her own room. Ulfric had given it to her after he had discovered that she had been sleeping in the Candlehearth Inn for the past two months and was almost out of gold. She had been so embarrassed when she entered her room, covered in sweat after a long day of making weapons to earn money, to see the Jarl sitting on her bed. He had insisted that she take an empty room in the Palace and she had finally accepted, his concern causing her to blush furiously.

She pushed open the doors of the Palace of Kings. She stopped in her tracks when she heard Ulfric speak. He and Galmar were exiting the war room, clearly in the middle of a conversation. "Well put, friend. Tell me, Galmar, why do you fight for me?" Ulfric asked his general.

Galmar's reply echoed her own thoughts. "I'd follow you to the depths of Oblivion, you know that."

"Yes, but why do you fight? If not for me, what then?" Ulfric pressed.

"I'll die before I let elves dictate the fates of men. Are we not one in this?" As Galmar spoke, Ulfric ascended the steps of his throne. He paused at the top before turning around to face Galmar.

"I fight for the men I've held in my arms, dying on foreign soil. I fight for their wives and children whose names I heard whispered in their last breaths." She could hear the sorrow in Ulfric's voice turn to anger at his next words, "I fight for we few who did come home, only to find our country full of strangers wearing familiar faces. I fight for my people too impoverished to pay the debts of an Empire too weak to rule them, yet brands them criminals for wanting to rule themselves!" Ulfric's voice rose and filled with a fierce passion that made her belief in him grow even stronger. "I fight so all the fighting I've already done hasn't been for nothing. I fight… because I must." His voice fell to little more than a whisper as he sat down on his throne, yet the words reached her ears as clear as day. Her heart did a little flip as her respect for her Jarl grew and she fell even further in love with him.

"Your words give voice to what we all feel, Ulfric. And that's why you will be High King. But the day when words are enough, will be the day when soldiers like us are no longer needed." Galmar stated with a small sigh.

Ulfric smiled at his general as he replied, "I would gladly retire from the world were such a day to dawn." She couldn't help but think that the world would lose a great man if he did.

"Aye." Galmar agreed. "But in the meantime, we have a war to plan."

A smile crossed her tired face as she approached the man that she trusted with her life and loved with all her heart. A new day was dawning for Skyrim, for all of Tamriel, and she would stand by Ulfric Stormcloak's side as he brought peace and justice to the land they loved.


	2. Hello

"Hello."

All it took was that one word and her resolve began to crumble. She should be angry with him! He left her! And yet he spoke a single word and her anger was gone. All the rage, all the hate, and all the sadness disappeared when she looked into those green eyes of his.

"I'm so sorry, lass." Brynjolf whispered.

He did look sorry. His beautiful emerald eyes were darkened and downcast. His eyebrows were pinched in the way they normally were when he knew he was in trouble. His posture, normally so confidant, was uncertain. And yet, he was here. He was here. He knocked on her door, knowing she'd be angry. He came back, knowing she may not understand.

"Lass…?" he asked softly, sounding almost scared, when she didn't respond. "Please forgive me." As he spoke, lightning flashed behind him and it began to pour. He didn't move, even though he was soaked within a few seconds. He just stared at her, begging with his eyes for her to take him back.

Eventually she broke completely. A small sob escaped her as she stepped into the rain and flung her arms around him. "Bryn. Oh, Bryn…" she cried into his shoulder and he held her, whispering comforts in her ear. After what felt like ages, she broke away from him. "I've missed you so much, Bryn." she murmured.

"I'm so sorry, lass." he repeated. "I'm sorry I left you. You and me and us…" he paused and looked at the ground, ashamed. "It scared me. No one in my life has ever been permenant. Even the Guild…you never know when someone will get caught… I'm so sorry." his composure slipped completely at his last words. He looked so lost and confused and regretful that her heart broke again.

She grabbed him by the arms and pulled him into her home. He started to say something, to apologize, but she stopped him with a soft kiss. "I understand, Brynjolf. I do. I know that this is hard for you. I've lived the life you live, remember?" Bryn nodded slightly."I'm scared by this too. I'm sacred of what could happen if this doesn't work, but I'm terrified of what would happen if I didn't try." She looked deep into his emerald eyes that were so full of emotion. "I love you, Brynjolf. I am going to do everything in my power to make this, make us, work. Will you do the same?"

There was no pause, no hesitation, as he replied, "Aye, lass. I love you, and I'm never letting you slip away from me again."

She smiled playfully at him. "Who was it who slipped away? Because I don't think it was me." she teased.

Bryn laughed and pulled her tighter into his arms. "I guess I did slip away." he admitted then he looked her in the eyes. "But I'm never going anywhere again. Not unless you're going with me." The conviction in his voice put her last fears to sleep. Somehow, they would work this out.


	3. A Secret

Her feet shuffled back and forth. Her heart beat so swiftly she thought it would jump out of her chest. Her eyes darted around, looking everywhere except for his face. Her voice broke when she spoke and she dodged all of his questions. She was clearly hiding something, everyone could see that. Everyone that was, except him.

That was only a small sliver of what she loved about him. He was so honest and trusting. It was adorable. Of course, it might get him killed someday, but she loved it anyway. Except for right now. Right now his complete, unfailing trust was making her feel extremely guilty. She deserved that guilty feeling, of course. That didn't make it any easier. She had carried this secret for months, and now it had become too much for her to bare, to hide.

Climbing the stairs to his room had been one of the hardest things she had ever done. Each step had taken more effort than slaying a troll. Her feet had felt like bricks of solid iron. The guards had watched her go with curious eyes, but no one stopped her. Why would they? She was the Thane of Eastmarch, an upstanding citizen, and one of Ulfric's most trusted lieutenants. She was also something else.

That was her secret. She was so much more than what the citizens of Windhelm. She was almost a completely different person. And that different person had quite the reputation. It wasn't necessarily a good one, either.

The burden of who she was was a burden that she had learned to carry, over time. That wasn't what had stalled her hand as she had started to knock on his door. No, what stalled her hand was the fear of what he would say. She could accept rejection, scorn, and hate from anyone. Anyone except him. He was the guiding light of her life. If he cast her out, she would be lost, blinded, stumbling through life.

She had knocked anyway. Despite her fears because he deserved the truth. She loved him indefinitely. That meant that she had to share her secrets with him. Now she was standing in front of him, too scared to speak.

He took one look at her face and guided her to sit on the edge of his bed. She wanted to stop him from putting his arms around her and holding her close. She wanted to break away and tell him that she didn't deserve his love. She couldn't though. His strong arms were so warm and comforting. So safe.

Eventually she managed to whisper out a single word, "Ulfric…". She tried to continue, but her voice caught. Ulfric just held her in his arms, rocking her gently. She closed her eyes and tried desperately to compose herself enough to speak. "Ulfric, I have something I need to tell you." her voice started out strong, but it began to break by the second sentence. "I'm not the person you think I am. I'm...I...oh Ulfric…" she was sobbing into his shoulder. He said nothing, just held her tight.

She broke away and looked him in the eyes, trying to find the courage she needed. His eyes held pure, shining love which served to increase her guilt. Yet, that love also gave her the strength she needed. She looked away.

"Ulfric…" She took a deep breath and looked him back in the eyes. "I am the Dragonborn." The words seemed to echo around the room, condemning her to her terrible fate. She closed her eyes and shuddered with suppressed sobs.

Ulfric, however, did not shout, or yell at her. He did not push her out of his arms or demand that she get out of his sight. No. Ulfric did the last thing she expected. He kissed her. Her eyes flew open in surprise as she kissed him back. He surprised her again by breaking the kiss and whispering, love evident in his voice, "I know."

"How did you…?" she gasped out in shock.

"How could I forget the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I recognized you from Helgen when you arrived to join my army. I knew that the girl from Helgen was the Dragonborn. Besides, I can feel your Thu'um. It's so strong, so proud, so certain." he replied with a small smile.

"You knew. You knew, and you still chose me. Why?" her voice was small and confused. How could he still love her when he knew all of the things she had done?

"I love you. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were someone special, someone I wanted by my side." he said simply, kissing her again. "Nothing will ever change that." She let out a small sigh and let her body relax in his arms. She was safe.


	4. Electricity and Swords

She felt it the first time her blade met his. Something… electric seemed to run off of him and through his blade until it met hers. Then it traveled through hers until it reached her. It gave her a startling, but not unwelcome, shock. When their blades clashed a second time, it happened again. Each time their blades touched, she felt a stronger connection to the Companion she had just met. She had a feeling that he would become someone very important to her life.

How right she was. After that first training session, she and Vilkas had met every day they could in the training yard to spar. Somedays their match would go on for over twenty minutes. Others it would be over quickly. Each time though, it was fierce and passionate. After they had sparred, they would sit on one of the benches or chairs outside in silence for awhile. They would occasionally make small talk or speak of a deed they had done, but they did not have long conversations. Vilkas was very intelligent and did not waste words explaining things. He assumed that she knew what he meant and kept going.

At first this particular trait of his bothered her, but eventually she came to love it. He always knew what he meant to say and trusted her to understand. It made her feel like more of an equal that way. No over explaining as if she was an idiot child who didn't know which end of a sword to hold.

Even though their friendship had little verbal communication, she felt as if she knew Vilkas very well. Each time they fought she learned something new. Each bolt of electricity gave her some new insight to how he felt or what he thought. Eventually she began to realize that Vilkas spoke more through his fighting than anything else. As time wore on, she became so in tune with him that after their first exchange of blows, she would know exactly how the sparring match would end.

She felt as if Vilkas was sharing a beautiful language with her and became determined to learn to speak it herself. She tried to put the words she never got to say to him into the way she fought. Once, during a late night training session when she was trying out Vilkas's language, she thought she had read his message to her wrong. He had seemed to be telling her, through simple strikes and electricity only she could feel, that he understood what she meant.

After that fight, when they sat in silence, he put his hand on her knee. She was shocked. Vilkas rarely did physical contact with anyone other than his twin. She looked at his eyes and saw that they were locked onto her. They gazed at each other for a few extended moments and she felt electricity arc between them. Then he stood and broke the eye contact.

The next day his fighting style had changed, it was less reserved, less defensive. He attacked and twisted and parried with the same exact precision as always, but something was different. She was confused, and it showed in her fighting. She became more withdrawn and defensive, rarely attacking unless she had to. The fight drug on for what seemed like forever. Then she realized what he was saying. The electricity that coursed through him and into her spelled I. Love. You. with every hit.

The instant she had discovered what he was trying to say, she attacked fiercely. With every stroke she declared I. Love. You. Too.

That sparring match changed their lives. Their feelings were things that they never could verbally express, but the sparring worked just fine. Eventually their verbal conversations grew as their relationship developed. They were married three years after she had joined the Companions.

Even after they had expanded to almost normal conversations, when they were frustrated with each other and couldn't figure out how to say it, they would go out to the training yard and spar. The invisible electricity of understanding would arc between them and they would feel closer to each other than they had ever been. No one else understood it. They couldn't explain it. But they spoke through electricity and swords. And they loved through them too.


	5. Who Am I?

The Dragonborn. That is what they call me. The Savior of Skyrim. I have been the Dragonborn for so long that no one knows my true name. It is hard even for me to remember who I am.

Who am I? I have many titles. Harbinger of the Companions. Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold. Guildmaster of the Thieve's Guild. Yet all of these titles are not who I am. Who I am was buried a long time ago by the burden of a thousand watching eyes.

I asked Lydia, my faithful Housecarl, once who I was. She studied me carefully before answering. "You are whoever the people need you to be. If you are not what they need, that is what you will become. You are people's voice given form. You are the Dragonborn."

What she had said was true. I had changed many times through the years to become what the people needed. I had gone from a fighting rebel to a cunning politician when they needed stable leadership. I had become a thief when the people needed reminding that riches were not everything in life. I had become an assassin when the people needed to be protected from evil within their own ranks. I had become the Arch-Mage when people needed to be reminded that power came in all forms. I became a Companion when the people needed strength to look to.

I became all of these things for them. I cannot remember the last time that I became someone because _I_ needed to or because _I_ wanted to. It has been a very long time since I was afforded that luxury.

There were days when I missed being my own person, free to make my own choices without the fear of how it would affect those who had put their faith in me. There were days when I wished that I had never become the Dragonborn, that I had never even returned to Skyrim. But those days were few and far between. Because every time I gave voice to the needs of the people or defended them from enemies they could not defeat, I heard the gratefulness in their voices and saw it in their eyes. It was in moments like those that I knew I could never stop being the will of the people. I loved them too much. I am the Dragonborn. I am what the people of Skyrim need me to be. A hero.


	6. In The Name of Love

Dear Brynjolf,

You turned away from me furiously. I watched your back as you walked swiftly toward the Flagon, to get drunk no doubt. An immense feeling of guilt washed over me, but I shoved it aside roughly. I don't have time for doubt.

I know that I've angered you, annoyed you, avoided you, and even hurt you. I know you hate me for it. Hopefully one day you will realize that I do it all in the name of love.

That's right, love. I am hopelessly in love with you Brynjolf, and there's nothing I can do about it. I've tried, oh how I've tried, to push your green eyes and flaming hair from my mind. To block out the sight of your ever constant grin. To shut out the sound of your beautifully accented voice rolling over my name. It does no good. I cannot stop thinking of you, no matter how hard I try.

That isn't the scary part, no. The scary part is the fact that you are beginning to feel the same way about me. I can see it in the way your eyes linger on me when you think I'm not watching. I can hear it in the way your voice lifts in happiness when you talk to me. I can feel it in your grip when you give me a congratulatory hug and it lasts a little longer than it should. I noticed these things and I knew I had to stop them.

You see, Brynjolf, I have secrets that I've never told you. Some of them I know you've worked out for yourself. Like how I used to be a member of the Dark Brotherhood, or how I joined Ulfric's rebellion. What you don't know is who I really am.

I'm not just the lass that you picked up off the street one day. I am the Dragonborn. I came to Riften to hide from my destiny. I thought that joining the Guild would let me escape my fate. It didn't. My destiny has come for me.

Dragons have attacked Riften, strange cultists have come looking for the "False Dragonborn", Thalmor have appeared demanding answers. I can't help but feel that it is all my fault. If I hadn't tried to hide, maybe these things wouldn't have happened.

So now I push you away. I mock you and scorn you and try to make you hate me. It hurt's. Oh, Brynjolf. It hurts me when I yell at you. It feels as if someone is tearing out my heart when I see the lost look in your emerald eyes. Yet I do it, because I know that the pain of having me only to lose me would be so much worse.

A week from now I will go to face Alduin in Sovngarde. I will do my duty to this world and face the great dragon, but I do not expect to return. That is why I cannot let you grow close to me. I could not bare to cause you pain.

I have left a letter with Karliah concerning the leadership of the Guild. I have requested that you lead it. I know that you hate the idea of such responsibility, but you are the perfect fit to guide this rabble of a Guild.

If you are reading this, that means that you've found my journal that I keep in Honeyside. Which means that you went through my house. You rascal! If you have read this, I apologize. I apologize for any pain that I have caused you. Just remember that I did it all in the name of love.

\- Love,

Your Lass

Tears fell on the worn leather book from emerald green eyes. Sobs wracked Brynjolf's body as he read the final words that his lass had written to him.

His lass knew him so well. She knew that after he had discovered that she had gone missing, he would search her house. He had found the small book peeking out from under her pillow. A small slip of fabric marked the latest entry, which he had flipped to after a moment of hesitation.

His heart broke as he read. To think of the pain that she had caused herself just so that she could minimize his pain. He had never known that she had loved him. He had always thought that the love he had felt was one sided. Now he knew, but she was gone.

He sat on her bed and cried. The tears fell in a steady stream, and he knew that this would be the only place he could feel these emotions. If what his lass had said was true, then soon he would be the Guildmaster. That meant that he had to be strong for the rest of the Guild, and so he allowed himself these few moments to cry.

Suddenly he felt the bed dip and a soft hand on his. He looked up and figured that he must be dreaming. He had to be, because next to him sat his lass. Her pale face looked tired and Brynjolf thought he noticed a few new scars, but other than that she didn't look like she had fought a world-eating dragon. Her eyes were filled with concern and a fair amount of fear.

Finally he was able to speak. "Lass?" his voice was so thick with emotion that he barely recognized it. A few tears escaped his eyes.

She reached a slender finger out to wipe away his tears. "It's okay, Bryn. I'm here." She pulled him close to her. He breathed in the smell of her deeply. She smelled of sweat and woods.

The stayed like that for a long time until she took the leather book from his hands. The cover was soaked in his tears. He had closed the book in an effort to keep his tears from ruining what he had believed to be her last words to him.

"I'm sorry Brynjolf." his lass whispered by his side. "I had thought that I would get back before you found that. I should have known better. I'm so sorry." she apologized again.

For awhile Brynjolf stared at his lass, thinking on the things she had said. "Lass, it's okay. You did it for love. A love that we share." He caught her blue eyes with his emerald ones. "I love you, lass. I've loved you since the day I saw you walk into Riften, and I always will."

"I love you too, Bryn." her voice was soft and still somewhat scared, but he smoothed away her fear with a gentle kiss.

"Everything I do for you, and everything you do for me, is done in the name of love. Never forget that." He whispered in her ear as both a promise and an assurance. Then he kissed her again and time stood still for the Thief and his Dragonborn.


	7. All We've Got

"How can you trust her, Ulfric?" Galmar questioned his long-time friend.

"I don't."

"Then why let her join the cause? Her reputation is not a good one. We don't need a lowlife like her under your banner!"

"Like it or not, old friend, we do. She may have her problems, but she is still the Dragonborn."

"So? My best men could take her on in a fair fight any day! She's nothing more than a milk drinker looking for a free ride to fame." Galmar grumbled. He hated the sneaky nord woman.

"I have no doubt of that, Galmar. That doesn't change the fact that we need her. Despite all of her flaws, she is the Dragonborn."

"A terrible one." Galmar interrupted.

A hint of a smile played on Ulfric's face. "Maybe, but she's all that we've got." he paused to stare into his General's eyes. "I don't like her. She's a thief, a cowardly assassin, and a liar. But she is the Dragonborn. It is her destiny to defeat Alduin, and one day she will. When we win this war with her on our side, we will be praised. We will be remembered as the liberators of Skyrim with its savior at our side!" He paused before saying. "If we didn't let her join us, where would she go? If all she is looking for is fame, she will join the Imperials. She will fight under their banner, and when we win she will be defeated. We will be remembered as the conquerors of Skyrim. The people who crushed the savior of the land with no hesitation. That is not how I want to be remembered."

Galmar shook his head, still hating the idea of having to work with and fight with the woman. "How can I know that she has my back, Ulfric? How can I know that she will fight to keep the people around her alive?"

"Trust has to start somewhere, Galmar. Maybe there is a reason that she is the way she is. Maybe all she needs is a reason to fight. We have to give her a chance, my friend."

Galmar narrowed his eyes at his Jarl suspiciously. "That is a very positive outlook, coming from you, Ulfric."

"Optimism has to start somewhere too, and you weren't going to do it." Ulfric laughed and the two of them exited the war room to go and meet with the Dragonborn. She wasn't great, she wasn't even good, but she was all they had and they would make do.


	8. Deep Breaths

_Inhale._ Colors flash by my eyes and heat dances across my face. The dragon snaps at me. _Exhale._ I loose the arrow in my bow string with a sharp twang. It hits the dragon in the eye. _Inhale._ The dragon lashes at me in anger, but I calmly step out of its way. I've been doing this for too long to get caught up in emotions. _Exhale._ I release another arrow that joins its brother in the dragon's glowing eyes. It roars in pain. _Inhale._ I roll out of the way of a spurt of flame, but it dances across my side. _Exhale_ in a hiss of pain. Keep moving.

 _Inhale._ The dragon is getting weaker and angrier. Soon it will make a mistake and expose itself to my attacks. _Exhale._ I ready another arrow in my bowstring hoping that it will be the final one. _Inhale._ I sight calmly along the arrow, looking for the perfect opportunity. My side aches with every breath. I ignore it. _Exhale._ I let the arrow fly from the bow and towards the chink I found in the dragon's scaly armor. It hits its mark. _Inhale._ The dragon roars loudly in pain as it falls to the earth. _Exhale._ Its scales begin to dissolve into flames and the now familiar white wind rushes around me. _Inhale._ The raw power of the dragon's soul crashes into me like a tidal wave. _Exhale._ The wind is gone, leaving the dragon's soul to reside with my own.

 _Inhale._ I'm all alone on the mountaintop. The wind chills me to my very bones. _Exhale._ I focus on my breathing as I begin the long climb back down the mountain to see the Jarl of Winterhold about my payment. _Inhale._ I feel the dragon's soul within me, yearning to be free. _Exhale._ I release the energy inside with a shout to the sky. "Fus, Ro, Dah!"


	9. Volcano

He sensed the eruption long before it occurred. It had been building for a very, very long time. For the last few months she had put the people first. Every single person, from the homeless without food to the snobbish rich needing and errand girl. Everyone came before herself and it had taken its toll. She had neglected her own well being, and though he had tried to help her the best that he could, her body couldn't withstand so much stress for so long.

Now she was paying the price. Well he said she, but in reality, it was General Tullius and that witch Elenwen. As they had attempted to negotiate a truce of some sort in order to deal with the dragon situation, he had almost been able to see the last strands of her control beginning to snap. With each jibe from Elenwen and each snide comment from Tullius, her control slipped.

The last comment that Elenwen had made, calling her a traitor to her race had been the final straw. Now the volcano that was the Dragonborn's stress, irritation, and anger had exploded. She no longer sat there, watching the negotiations with twitching ears. Now she attacked ruthlessly and without mercy. It was a side that he rarely saw from his logical and observant lieutenant.

"A traitor? Me?" She laughed bitterly for a few moments as both Elisif and Tullius looked at her, seeming scared. And they should be. "That's funny, Elenwen. No, it's beyond funny, it's hilarious. I'm the traitor. The one who is trying to help everyone she can, the one trying to find peace so that a larger threat can be eliminated. The one who was chased from her homeland for helping a nord man find his way back home. The one who is trying to save the entire world!" Her voice rose with each sentence. She took a deep breath, obviously trying to regain control, but to little avail.

"You are the traitor to our people, Elenwen. Many of our kin have been stripped of their rank, their homes, their livelihoods because they dared to say that what you and your Thalmor pets was too extreme. How many Altmer voices have you silenced for 'the good of the cause'?" To her credit, Elenwen didn't try and make excuses or even say anything. Her uninterested expression stayed frozen on her face, but he thought that he could sense fear lurking in her eyes.

"You do not dare to fight out in the open. No, you let the Imperials do the dirty work and drag away those who cause trouble in the middle of the night, never to be seen again. You have destroyed the honor of our race and cast a shadow over our once cheerful land. I am not the traitor here, Elenwen. You are, and one day soon a reckoning will come and I really hope I have a front row seat to watch it." The Dragonborn grinned darkly at Elenwen and he had a strong urge to clap.

The Dragonborn had done so much to try and help repair the image of her race. She had changed his mind as well as the minds of countless others. She was no traitor to her race, she was their savior.


	10. Travel

Dragon riding was the only way to travel. It was something she had decided as soon as she had seen the world from Odahviing's back. Even though she had been on her way to face an evil world-eating dragon, she had loved every second of the ride. Odahviing hadn't been wrong when he had told her that her envy of the Dov would increase.

After they had reached Skuldafn, she had climbed down from Odahviing's back with great reluctance. She had decided that if she made it back from Sovngarde, she would ask the dragon if she could ride on his back more often. That's exactly the thing she did after she had defeated Alduin. Odahviing seemed amused by her request, but he did not deny it to her. They flew away from the Throat of the World together.

The best part of being able to ride a dragon wasn't the view, though. Even though it was exhilarating to see the world the way the Dov did. No, the best part was landing on a city's walls or the roof of wherever the Jarl lived. All the guardsmen would come running with their bows drawn and yelling for people to hide inside their homes. Then the guards would see that Odahviing wasn't attacking anyone or destroying anything. They always had the most confused look on their faces. They never knew if they should fire on the dragon, so they would stand there with their bows drawn and do nothing. Eventually one of them would spy her sitting on Odahviing's back and call out to her, confused. She would wave at them, slide down from her perch, jump to the ground, call a farewell to Odahviing in Dovahzul, and stroll off as if nothing happened. As soon as she had found a place where she was alone she would crack up with laughter. The look on their faces was perfect! Dragon riding really was the only way to travel in Skyrim.


	11. Come Home

Pacing. It was something that she seemed to be doing more and more frequently in these past few weeks. Ever since, well ever since the most amazing man had asked her to be his bride. Then of course he had had to leave on an important political outing that she couldn't attend because she would most likely end up killing someone. So now she was pacing, waiting for him to come back to her.

It wasn't as if she couldn't be patient. She could. She had waited in silence for him to ask her for her hand for months! It was just that now that he had asked, she really wanted to get the marriage over with so that she could finally say that she was his wife. They had been side by side for so long that most people who thought of one of them often thought of the other. No one thought of the High King of Skyrim without thinking of his Stormblade, the woman who had risen through the ranks of his army to stand at his side in the Battle for Solitude. She was ready to be more than his Stormblade, she was ready to be his wife.

She didn't want to marry him for the title, or the fame. She had plenty of titles and enough fame to last multiple lifetimes. She didn't need those. What she needed was the ability to openly protect her love and show Skyrim that she would do anything for this man. She needed the freedom to kiss him when she wanted to, no matter who was watching. She needed to be able to love, truly love, without fear of damaging his reputation.

She had loved him for a very long time, and she knew that he had felt the same way, but they couldn't share their love with the world. Not with the war. Not with the possibility that someone could use her as a way to get him to end his rebellion. Not if their love would risk the safety of the men and women who fought under his banner. She had many enemies, and they couldn't afford to let them become his enemies as well, not when he had a rebellion to manage.

Now though, the country was strong enough to withstand the might of the enemies that she had made. Now, they had won the war and people who would think to still use her against him feared her name. Now they were free. All she needed now was for him to come home to her. To come home and take her to the temple. To come home and marry her.


	12. Impressions

When the young elf walked through the doors of the Bannered Mare for the first time, Hulda could sense something different about her. She didn't know what, but she knew that this woman was not an ordinary person. Hulda had a sense about these kinds of things. She had offered the elf a room and some food which she had accepted with more gratitude than most people seemed to know how to show. The next day she stopped by to thank Hulda before leaving.

A few weeks later, the same elf stumbled through the doors looking exhausted. Her hair was all over the place, her steps were slow, and even her ears looked like they were drooping. She had payed for a room and gone upstairs without a word. Hulda could see a weight pressing on the young elf, as of some new responsibility had been thrust upon her shoulders unexpectedly and she was being forced to bear it alone. It was only after she had left a few days later that Hulda had heard the rumors that the legendary Dragonborn was supposedly a woman. Not only that, but an elf as well. That was when Hulda knew that she had been right. The woman was someone special. She was the destined savior of Skyrim.

Hulda served the Dragonborn many times over the next few months when she stayed in Whiterun for a break from her duties or to visit with the Jarl who was rumored to have taken the elf in as a niece or something similar. Each time the Dragonborn thanked her for allowing her to stay and each time Hulda was amazed at the humility someone so important and powerful could show.

One time when the Dragonborn entered the inn, Hulda could see and feel a difference. She walked differently. It was a slower almost solemn walk, like a person going to their execution. The Dragonborn greeted Hulda with a smile as always, but she could see that the smile wasn't right. This smile was sad and reflective, as if the Dragonborn was remembering fond memories that she never hoped to experience again. She stayed the night and thanked Hulda on her way out in the morning, but her face was grim. A few hours later Hulda heard the roar of a dragon mixed with a shout. A few minutes later she heard the beating of giant wings, and she knew that the Dragonborn had gone to face her destiny. Hulda closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer to the divines that the Dragonborn make her way back safely. Then she went back to serving mead to her customers. Life goes on in Skyrim.


	13. Stay Silent

Flashes of white hot pain stabbed through Elana at every breath she took. She bit down on her lip hard to keep from yelling out. A glance down at the gaping wound in her side made her head spin, and she had to stifle a groan.

Ulfric's strong hands probed the wound gently, but even the cautious movement made Elan want to scream. She wouldn't though. Not when Ulfric Stormcloak stood by her side. Not when he was trying to care for her, the Dragonborn, as best he could. No, she would not make a sound, no matter how much it hurt.

Her willpower was tested when Ulfric poured a potent healing potion into the open wound. The liquid stung as if she was being stabbed with a thousand needles. Unwillingly, she inhaled sharply. Ulfric's head snapped up in alarm.

"I'm sorry, Elana. I should have seen that Thalmor before he was able to attack you. This is my fault." Ulfric's blue eyes were filled with self-reproach.

"Never, my jarl! The fault is mine. What good is an escort if the escort can't keep themselves out of harm's way, much less their charges?" Elana grit her teeth against the pain as Ulfric began to stitch the wound closed.

"Elana… thank you." Ulfric said the words softly causing Elana to look back towards him quizzically.

"For what, Jarl Ulfric?"

"For being here. For staying strong. It's...nice to have someone I can unburden myself to after a long day of planning. Thank you for putting up with my not-so-pleasant rants." The jarl looked down sheepishly. It was an expression that didn't seem to belong on the strong man's face.

Elana smiled, the pain in her side forgotten in an instant. It was moments like this when Elana truly loved Ulfric for who he was. Not the great rebellion leader, or jarl, or soldier, just Ulfric. "You're welcome, my jarl," she said with a sigh. Ulfric finished fixing her side and left the tent. Elana sat for some time, thinking, before finally falling into the world of sleep.


	14. Scents

Vilkas breathed in deeply, enjoying the rush of the wind on his face and the smells that came with it. It had been some time since he had been out hunting. He had been busy helping Vika get used to the job of Harbinger for the past few weeks. Now, though, he was free to go on a long hunt and enjoy the feel of the forest around him again.

And enjoy it he did. He ran at an almost inhuman speed through the trees, relishing the sound of grass crunching under his boots. He ran and ran until he tired, which was some time later, then he rested by a river for a few minutes. He loved the smell of the forest. His enhanced senses could pick up scents that normal people weren't even aware of. He could smell the fear of a rabbit as it ran from a fox. He could smell the grass that the deer on the other side of the river was chewing. At times it could be overwhelming, but right now it was perfect.

Eventually, while he was hunting a large buck, he caught the scent of something different. It was very faint, so its owner was still a ways away, but he knew what it was. The smell was a fabulous mix of wood smoke, lavender, and sweat. He turned his nose toward the origin of the sent and, forgetting the buck, raced after it.

He hadn't been chasing the smell long when it changed directions. Now the smell was getting closer to him, moving at a rate that let Vilkas no that the other had caught his scent as well. He ran faster towards it, loving the thrill of the almost-chase.

Soon he was very close. Very, very close. He slowed down to the stalking crouch of a hunter as he searched the woods. There. He snuck towards the spot careful to ensure that his smell was blowing away.

He reached the spot and stepped up behind the one he had been chasing. "Hello," he whispered, letting his breath tickle her ear. She stiffened for a brief instant before relaxing back against his chest.

"Hello, Vilkas." she murmured, not turning to face him but leaning against him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. He breathed in, smelling the wonderful scent that was so distinctly Vika. So distinctly his wife.


	15. Falling Short

Failure. It was all he was and all he ever would be. It haunted his footsteps and followed him like a menacing shadow, darkening all that was good with its foul taint. He couldn't escape it, no matter how hard he tried. No matter what he did, he failed. Every time.

Of course, most of the residents of Skyrim didn't see it that way. They saw him as their savior. He was the brave man who faced the greatest evil the land had ever seen and returned triumphant. In their eyes, he had done and could do, no wrong. To them he was perfect, and that only made him feel worse.

He had messed up, time and time again. That wasn't saying that he had never done any good, he had. It was just that for each grand and fabulous thing he did, too many suffered for him to get there. After the deed was done, everyone would praise him, telling him that he had saved them again. He wanted to scream at them, beg them to realize all that had been lost and how much more he should have been able to do.

He had saved the College of Winterhold, but he had failed to prevent Savos Aren's death. If he had been faster in getting back from the dwarven ruin, he would have been able to stop Ancano. Instead, he had limped back to the College because he had failed to avoid the swing of a Centurion. He had failed, and yet they praised him as a hero.

That wasn't the only time. He had defeated Mercer, but only after allowing him to steal from the Guild for months. He had slain the Silver-hand, but he had failed to stop them from killing Kodlak. He had destroyed Alduin, but only after he had laid terrorized Skyrim. All of these times he had failed, yet no one could see. No one could see how much suffering was his fault. No one could see how much he should have done…

He was the Dragonborn. He should be strong enough to face every enemy and protect the people of Skyrim. _His_ people. He tried, oh how he tried, but he always fell short.


	16. Up All Night

Ulfric Stormcloak gazed at the moon from the roof of his Palace. The brilliant orb was beginning to sink and on the horizon, Ulfric could just barely see pink tinting the sky as the sun began to make its trip across the sky. Ulfric wished he could say that he had just woken up early with a desire to look at the sky, but the truth was that he had never gone to sleep. He had stayed up all night thinking about _her_ and the words that she had spoken to him before leaving earlier that day.

Ulfric's eyes unfocused as he heard her soft voice again in his head. " _I'm sorry, my Jarl." she was looking down at her feet, not meeting his eyes. "I cannot stay here any longer. Please forgive me." He blinked a few times, trying to process what she had said. She was leaving! Why? What had he done wrong?_

" _What did I do to make you leave, Kara?" he asked softly, tilting her head up so that she would meet his eyes. She looked at him briefly and he could see the anguish in them before she shook herself out of his grip and looked down again._

" _It's what you didn't do, Ulfric. What you didn't do for them," she whispered so softly that he almost didn't hear her. She looked back up at him, her eyes and face showing a heartbreaking mixture of sadness, disappointment, resignation. "I can't stay, Ulfric. I'm sorry," she said again. Ulfric opened his mouth to protest, but she was gone._

After she had left he had tried to focus on the problems of the city, but he couldn't. Her face kept appearing every time he closed his eyes, even for a brief second. Eventually, he gave up and dismissed his court for the evening. Galmar had given him a strange look but didn't ask.

For awhile, Ulfric had sat in his room thinking and drinking. When he grew too restless he began to pace back and forth but stopped before he wore a trench in the stone. That had led to him roaming his Palace and the city. A few people tried to speak to him, but his answers were listless and disconnected. They gave up and Ulfric was left with only his thoughts of her.

Sometime in the night, he had made it to the roof of his Palace, a spot that was accessible by a passage that only he and Galmar knew about. He stood there, staring at the sky without seeing, for hours. Now he was coming back to his senses, slowly.

All at once, Ulfric realized what he hadn't done. His eyes snapped wide open and he gasped involuntarily. How had he been so stupid! He should have realized how it would affect her!

Setting his jaw determinedly, Ulfric turned to the steps and started down them, each step filled with purpose. He was going to set this right, and then he was going to find her and beg her to come back to him. He refused to lose her.


	17. Home

Skyrim. It was where she was raised. It was where she had learned what she believed in. It was where she had discovered the difference between right and wrong. It was the place that she had met her love. It was her home, and there was no way she was going to let some snobby elves steal it from her. Not while she still drew breath.

She had put her blood, her sweat, and plenty of her tears into this land and its people. She had sacrificed almost every waking moment to making her country into a better, more unified one. She had fought the Thalmor and their evil plots every step of the way, and she was not going to let them win now.

She had pushed herself to the very edge of her abilities and beyond to save her people and her land. It was everything that she stood for, the reason that she got up in the morning. It was the reason she was able to shrug off wounds and keep fighting. This was _her_ home and _her_ land. Any Thalmor who wanted to try and take it was welcome to meet their end at the tip of her ax.


	18. Woods

The Dragonborn didn't stop running until the walls of Solitude had faded into the distance. When they had he slowed down, but only slightly. He wanted to leave all of the cities of Skyrim behind. They were far too full of crazy people who were always yelling at him to go do this thing or go get that thing or go save this person. He was sick and tired of it all. He had been born into a family of hunters. He was used to the quiet of the woods, not the constant noise of Skyrim's capital city.

He had been wanting to escape to the woods for a while now, but with the Moot happening, he thought that it would be rude of him to leave. Now that the Moot had been decided and Ulfric was High-King however, there was no reason for him to stay. He had lingered just long enough to congratulate Ulfric, and then he had left.

The crisp fall wind felt fabulous on his skin, and the clean air tasted sweet on his tongue. The air in the city had tasted, dirty somehow, and the tall buildings had blocked most of the wind. Out here the wind was free and so was he. A deep sigh of relief escaped from his lips as the Dragonborn pulled out his bow and searched for something he could shoot for dinner. With any luck, it would be at least a week before Ulfric called him in for a new mission. And he intended to spend every single second doing what he loved far away from all the crazy people.


	19. Piece by Piece

**A/N Look, I'm not dead! I've just been working on a different fic in the Flash universe. I hope you enjoy this little story!**

Brynjolf was confused, a state that he had found himself in too often for his likening for the past week. For the life of him, he couldn't understand what was wrong with the lass. She had been avoiding him for the past few days, never speaking to him and rarely even staying in the same room with him for long. It was starting to worry him.

They had been together for about a year now, and he was worried that he had done something to screw it up. The idea that he had somehow pushed her away was almost too painful to bear. His lass was, well, she was perfect. She was without a doubt one of the best thieves he had ever seen, she had a witty remark ready almost before you finished speaking, and she was a good leader. To lose her would kill him. That was why Brynjolf was on his way to talk to Delvin. The Breton would know what to do.

The Flagon was as rowdy as ever and the ale was flowing freely, but Brynjolf paid it no mind. He strode right over to Delvin's table and sat across from the man, who was sitting alone watching the others in the Flagon with amused eyes.

Brynjolf opened his mouth to speak, but Delvin cut him off saying, "She's gone, Bryn."

For a few moments, Brynjolf was too stunned to speak. "Gone?" he croaked out, "Why?"

"I don't know, mate. She gave me this to give to you before she left." Delvin told him solemnly as he handed him a folded unfolded the paper with trembling hands and read it.

Brynjolf, I hope I haven't worried you too much. I told Delvin not to be dramatic, but I have a feeling that he didn't listen. I have left notes like this one with a few different people around town. Some of them know they have one, and some of them don't. Follow them and they will lead to where I am. Now for the clue, In the place we first met I spoke to her before your emerald eyes had caught mine.

"I am going to kill you, Delvin. Slowly and painfully." Brynjolf told the Breton in front of him in a threatening tone. Brynjolf had thought that the lass had left him for good! Delvin only laughed and Brynjolf turned away to find the next clue.

He found it with relative ease. He had met the lass in the marketplace on a warm summer day. She had been speaking to Marise about some ice wraith teeth before he had caught her eyes with his own. That day had forever changed his life. He slipped his fingers into Marise's pocket and withdrew the note.

In the place where we first kissed in the pouring rain. She wasn't there, and I am still convinced that you set the whole thing up.

Brynjolf chuckled softly at that as he made his way to the Riften graveyard. It was the place where they had first kissed. She had hurt herself while out on a job, and Brynjolf had found her limping back to the Cistern in the rain. He had picked her up and carried her the rest of the way. They had been in the graveyard when a flash of lightning lit up her face and Brynjolf just couldn't stand it anymore. He had kissed her softly in the rain and time had seemed to stand still. Then she had slapped him.

Brynjolf chuckled again and walked over to where Nura was tending to the shrine of Talos. His lass was good friends with Nura, so he figured that the priestess knew that she had a note for him. She did and handed it over after he had asked nicely.

The next few notes led him all around the town, seeking the next ones. Some of the people knew that they had a note, like Maven Blackbriar, who had rolled her eyes when he had asked for it. Some of them didn't, like the smith Balimund, who was hard to pickpocket when sitting on a bench. Now Brynjolf had the last note in his hand.

You found them all, Bryn. This is the last one. I hope you didn't take too long because things like this only last for so long. I am down by the place where you first said, "I love you." Hurry.

Brynjolf obeyed and took off running through the gates of Riften. It wasn't far to the place that his lass was talking about, but it seemed like ages. He ran through the woods, his feet knowing where to go with no need of guidance. The clearing where he had first told the lass that he loved her. The clearing where she had done something that he had never dared to dream of. The clearing where she had told him that she loved him too.

He walked into the clearing and gasped softly at the sight before him. His lass, his beautiful lass, was laying on her back looking up at the sky. Her deep golden hair spread out around her head like a halo in stark contrast to the shadowy armor of the Guildmaster that she wore. It was perfect.

Stepping slowly, he walked over to her and lay down at her side. Staring up at the sky, he saw that it was getting darker. As he watched, the sun began to set, and red-orange rays of light filled the forest and made the trees seem as if they had burning fire for leaves. It was beautiful. A minute later, it was gone, and the forest began to grow dark.

"You found me, Bryn." his lass whispered softly, still looking up at the sky.

"Aye, I'll always find you, lass. You can't hide from me for long," he replied.

His lass rolled over to face him. "Good," she said simply and kissed him softly on his lips. She began to draw back from the kiss, but Brynjolf captured her lips with his again and kissed her more deeply. When the kiss broke, his lass smiled at him in that way that melted his heart. "Happy anniversary, Bryn."

 **A/N I hope you liked this fiction! Please comment with ideas for me or reviews!**


	20. Stars in the Sky

I stared up at the beautiful winter sky. The air was cold, but with my Nordic blood, I hardly noticed it. The aurora of lights was breathtakingly beautiful, even more so tonight than usual.

I dangled my legs over the edge of the roof, still gazing at the glittering stars above me. I often came up here to the top of the Palace to think or just breathe the peaceful air. It was a calming place to be. A soft sound drew me back from out of my distant thoughts. Footsteps. I smiled because I recognized them. They were the steps of my husband.

He sat down next to me on the edge of the roof. For a few minutes, he said nothing and only stared up at the glittering sky with me. Eventually, he sighed in bliss and said, "The stars are almost as beautiful as you are, my love."

I rolled my eyes and wrapped my arms around Ulfric. He knew I was self-conscious about my looks, and he never stopped calling me beautiful. I loved that about him.

Silence fell between us again, and we sat there, arms intertwined, for a few more moments before I said, "My father used to tell me that stars represented souls in Sovngarde. He said that those who had been extraordinarily brave or had dedicated their lives to serving the gods had souls so bright that they pierced the veil between the two realms."

"Your father sounds like he was a wise man."

"He was," I replied softly, thinking of the fabulous man that was my father. "I like to think that he is one of those stars up there, shining brightly to guide me on my way," I whispered into my husband's shoulder.

"Any man that raised a woman as amazing as you deserves the highest honor. I am sure that he is up there." Ulfric paused for a few moments before asking in a quiet voice, "Do you think that my soul will join the stars when I pass?"

Ulfric sounded so uncertain, despite all that he had given to the gods and Skyrim. "I know you will, Ulfric. You have dedicated your life to fighting for Talos. You may have made mistakes along the way, but you are a good man." I smiled at him. "I wouldn't have married you if you weren't." Ulfric laughed and we spent the rest of the night watching the stars in each other's arms.


End file.
